Same old boring Sunday morning

Old man's out washing the car

Mum's in the kitchen cooking Sunday dinner

Her best meal moaning while it lasts

Johnny's upstairs in his bedroom sitting in the dark

Annoying the neighbours with his punk rock electric guitar

This is the sound

This is the sound of the suburbs

This is the sound of the suburbs

Every lousy Monday morning

Heathrow jets go crashing over our home

Ten o'clock Broadmoor siren

Driving me mad won't leave me alone

The woman next door just sits and stares outside

She hasn't come out once ever since her husband died

This is the sound

This is the sound of the suburbs

This is the sound of the suburbs

Youth Club group used to want to be free

Now they want Anarchy

They play too fast they play out of tune

Practise in the singer's bedroom

Drum's quite good the bass is too loud

And I… can't hear the words

This is the sound

This is the sound of the suburbs

This is the sound of the suburbs

This is the sound of the suburbs

This is the sound of the suburbs